Ghosts of Christmas Past
by BurnBuddy
Summary: Short Story. Sharing a happy Christmas memory has unintended consequences for Francis, especially when someone else realizes they share it with him. In one evening ghosts of the past come back to life.


Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Enjoy this one-shot fluff! Also, this IS NOT part of the _Dead In The Water_ timeline or universe. -BB

* * *

**Ghosts of Christmas Past**

"He said, nice shorts Hersch-y squirt. So I said, Rudolph, nice black eye! And then I punched him in the face!"

Louis gaped at Francis in abject horror. That wasn't the warm fuzzy Christmas story he'd been promised. "Francis, that wasn't what I was going for when I asked you to share your favorite Christmas memory. I meant-"

"Oh no, Louie, it gets better!" Francis laughed, waving his friend off. The door had been opened for him to talk, he'd stepped inside, and be damned if he was about to get pushed out. Despite Louis's misgivings, everyone else was enthralled. Coach was practically in tears and Nick was astounded. He couldn't believe that Francis actually tried to hold down a real job at some point.

"Define better." Louis demanded, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Check this out. Then the asshat in the santa costume that had been hitting on that cute elf girl comes up to me making to throw a punch. I got ready to get into it when the elf girl comes flying by and decks the fatass to the ground!"

Zoey's ears perked up and she watched the storyteller suspiciously. "The girl actually punched Santa Claus in the face?" She intoned lightly.

"I know, right? I was so shocked, I dropped the package. Before the damn thing hit the floor the entire bar was fighting. Bottles flying, elves and reindeer at each other's throats, it was the greatest thing I'd ever seen!"

"And this all started because?" Rochelle asked, taking a sip of her coffee. Needless to say, like Louis, she was less than impressed.

"Like I said, Santa was buggin the cute elf girl, but she wasn't into it. I told him to hit the road. I don't even think she was old enough for him to be lookin at without getting arrested, maybe 16 or 17? Probably looked even younger because of the makeup with the sparkly red wig. Short little thing, about Zoey's size."

"My size." Zoey mumbled and swallowed hard, looking down at her hot chocolate, then back up at Francis as he animatedly described the bar fight hit by hit, but she was finding herself anticipating each move before he described it.

_It couldn't be the same fight..._ _could it? Had to be a different elf, different sparkly wig...different group of north pole workers._

Her senior year of high school Zoey had gotten a job as one of Santa's helpers at the local mall for some extra cash during the holiday season. At the end of the contract the company threw a party. It was supposed to be a fun evening out celebrating the crew's time together at the end of a grueling season. However the season was definitely not worth celebrating even if she'd walked out with a nice paycheck to get her through her Christmas shopping. She'd been 18 at the time, and the creep playing Santa in her group had no issue exploiting that fact. He relentlessly bothered her and the other "of age" girls. Hell, he was unabashed about it, even going as far as trying to cop an "accidental" feel whenever he could. The only reason she'd bothered to go to the party at all was because her best friend had a crush on one of the reindeer and Zoey was playing wingman.

Santa seized the opportunity and bothered her without reprieve the entire evening determined to not leave empty handed with at least one teenage worker, but his sights had been set on Zoey. She'd dodged him with every tactic she knew, but he wouldn't take no for answer, going as far as waiting for her while she was in the bathroom and laughing off her telling him to go away as a joke.

Then that delivery guy walked in, demanded the package be signed for, but the bartender was too busy to get to him right away, so he sat at the bar looking around. Seeing her distress, he walked over and intervened abruptly, in a less than friendly manner.

_But still... Francis? How could that be? Francis has a goatee... that guy was clean shaven and wore a hat, and he had a very pleasant smile. Francis isn't pleasant and only smiles when he's shooting things._

She didn't remember any tattoos. In fact... that guy wore a set of long sleeves under his brown uniform polo. Zoey shook her head and scowled, taking a sip of her hot drink. It had to be a coincidence. Around Christmas, who knew just how many north pole bar fights broke out, plus delivery guys were everywhere.

She usually tried not to think of that night if she could help it. There was always a lingering guilt and regret about how the events unfolded. After the fight broke out, the Hersch guy got fired when his defense and subsequent battle made him late. That considered, it really couldn't have been Francis after all, he didn't say anything about-

"And then my ass got canned! Go figure, right? Get in a fight so I'm late on my route, and they call me afterwards to fire me! I was just bein a nice guy!"

Zoey snapped her head up. _Nooo! It can't be! It can't be! _Clearing her throat, she spoke tentatively, hoping to come off as disinterested. She needed to prod just a little more information out of him to know for sure. "That doesn't sound like a happy Christmas story. Louis said happy story."

"I'm not done." His voice softened a bit, drawing the very curious attention of all eyes around the campfire. "After the shit-can call I told those asses to come get the truck, so I tossed the phone in and locked it up. I was walkin down the sidewalk when little elf girl ran out of the bar and yelled after me."

_Oh boy. _Zoey swallowed hard and listened intently as her own memories played like a movie before her eyes.

* * *

_"Hey, uh, dude!"_

_The delivery guy perked up and looked back over his shoulder at the confused girl sprinting down the snowy sidewalk, the bells on her curled little elf shoes jingling with each step. She stopped at his truck, realizing he was walking away from it... without a package. _

_"Uh, hey there, Elf?"_

_"Why are you leaving your truck? You on lunch or something?" She asked. _

_"Actually just got canned for being late. Certainly ain't gonna drive it back to them."_

_"Oh. That's really lame." She snorted and knelt over by the passenger's side front tire. Unscrewing the valve cap, she used her house key to drain all the air out of the tire. "There. Now they'll be really late." She said with a nod of satisfaction. Rising, she trotted to close the rest of the distance between them. _

_"I uh, thanks." He said sincerely. It wasn't often someone stood up for him, especially some cute little teen girl... who should not be around him for any reason. Looking around for a camera crew, he grew nervous. Chris Hansen could be hiding around any corner, and he was no jail bait chaser. "Don't you have a party to get back to?"_

_"Nope! You were the coolest person in there, and you left, so there's no reason for me to stick around. Thanks by the way." Screw Jenny, she could chase Blitzen on her own. When Santa had been harassing her Jenny had been too wrapped up in her flirting to care, so Zoey really didn't have any desire to stick around. _

_"For what?"_

_"Saying something. There are at least five other guys I worked with that saw what he was doing and didn't have the balls to say anything. I really wanted the money for gifts this year, so I just ignored him up til tonight."_

_He shrugged, pocketing his hands. "Leave no douche unpunched. It's my purpose in life." _

_"I think you're onto something." She chuckled, rubbing her hands together to generate some warmth. Looking around shyly, she became aware that she'd run herself right into a situation her father would have screamed at her for: standing in the middle of the empty road with a strange man at night. If she hadn't been suddenly distracted by something else, she may have run in the opposite direction. "Why the hell are you in shorts anyway? Aren't you cold?"_

_The delivery guy chuckled, looking down. "Required uniform. I'm ok though." He lied, it was taking everything he had not to shiver like a wimp in the cold wet weather. Little girl or not, he wasn't going to appear anything less than manly while talking to her. _

_"Lying sack of shit." She contested and crossed her arms._

_"Fine, you got me, I'm freezing. You want a medal or something?" _

_"I want to buy you some coffee, you know, in thanks for punching Rudolph in his big stupid red nose." She laughed with a warm smile, her sparkly wig glinting under the street lights._

_The delivery guy scowled for a second, contemplating her offer. His gut said no, but he was cold... and she was just so damn friendly. "Fine, just coffee. Don't want people thinkin I'm a pedo."_

_She laughed out loud as she walked by his side down the sidewalk. "Naaah. People will think you have a sick fetish before they think you're a pedo." She teased, keeping the knowledge of her age to herself._

_"Oh, that's much better." He sighed, rolling his eyes.._

* * *

"So she bought me a cup of coffee and we talked for a short while before I made her go home to her parents. I walked her to her car, and she went home. Pretty fricken sweet Christmas if you ask me."

Zoey remained quiet and introspective, taking another sip of her hot cocoa. Around her, the usual peanut gallery comments and jabs were being unleashed.

"That was actually kind of sweet." Louis said, relieved. He was worried Francis's story would ruin the evening for everyone with hookers, booze, and God knows what else. Chatter erupted from the others, but Francis tuned it out. He was waiting for Zoey's opinion, but when she didn't render one, he was perplexed.

"Nothin to say about me havin coffee with some young kid?" He prodded, quite put off by the absence of disgusted snorts and glares the entire story. He lived for her firey indignance and it was lacking. She merely shook her head, uncharacteristically silent.

"I have a hard time believing you didn't try to ride Santa's little helper all the way back to the north pole. I'm guessing her version of events would be a little different." Nick's voice cracked over the friendly banter of the others, bristling the hairs all the way down Francis's spine. Scowling darkly the orator crushed the plastic cup in his hand, the contents spilling all over the place.

"Say that again, and you'll be eating through a straw."

"Woah, woah, I was just kidding." Nick replied, holding his hands up in defense, but his words were muddy with knowing success. He'd just wanted to place a verbal hit, and he did, but he had no idea just how much of a soft spot it would be.

"You weren't." Zoey said plainly. She hated Nick, probably more than Francis did. Ever since the groups joined he'd been hostile, for some reason placing the majority of his anger and frustration on Francis and Zoey. "I'd ask to hear your Christmas story, but I don't want to know where you buried the hooker."

"I haven't yet, I'm looking right at her." Nick snapped, glaring her down with petulant anger. He had the desire, but never the opportunity to slap her smart mouth.

Across the fire, Francis twitched then made to leap at Nick, but before he could, both Coach and Louis grabbed him. "That's a mistake you won't get to make twice! I promise you!"

"Thanks Nick, for letting everyone see just how ugly you are." She spit darkly, crossing her arms. It did not get past her that the delivery man was jumping to her defense yet again.

"Nick! What the hell!" Louis yelled, using all his strength to hold onto just half of his friend.

"I suppose that was harsh." Nick said lightly with a happy smirk, raising his cup to drink. It was too easy to get Francis pulling at his leash. The others were so determined to keep peace, they wouldn't let him loose.

Beside Nick, Ellis was practically jumping out of his skin with his hand raised in the air. Once Francis settled down, he and the others had written off the verbal exchange as nothing. In their opinion, Nick was harmless. He was just _like that._

"My turn! My tuuuuuuuuuuuuurn! I have a story!"

"Ellis, we want to hear _interesting_ stories." Rochelle said, shooing him quiet.

"My stories are interesting!"

Still steaming, Francis rubbed his neck and shrugged. "I guess you're up, hayseed." He said, motioning to Ellis while sitting back on the bucket he'd been using for a chair.

Jumping up from the log, Ellis stood before the campfire, raising his arms in the air. He was going to put everything he had into his story. It would be _legendary_! "One time! A long, long time ago! Keith and I..."

The group collectively groaned. Ellis launched into a story about gremlins, snow monsters, penguins, and Santa Claus. The real one, according to Ellis.

As the liquid from his cup froze on his coat, Francis stood up from the fire to go clean up and get a new hot drink out of the refugee shelter. "I'll be back." He mumbled to nobody in particular. Zoey watched him go, trying to think of any reason whatsoever to go talk to him in private and interrogate him for more information about his elf. Getting the hell away from Nick was a bonus. Looking around her eyes settled on her cocoa cup.

Bingo.

Pretending she was readjusting herself, she "accidentally" spilt her cocoa on her pants and the ground. Robotically, she feigned surprise. "Oh gosh. Look at that, what a clutz! I'll be back." Zoey was no actress and it was painfully obvious. Everyone else glared at her, but only because they didn't think of it first.

"Oh dang. Well, hurry back, you're missing my story!" Ellis exclaimed, oblivious to her trick, but continued talking for fear of the others sneaking away. "So, then Keith said..."

Zoey sighed in relief once she was finally out of sight of the campfire. She trotted around the front of the shelter noticing how pretty the snow looked as it fell before the floodlight. As she approached the door, her stomach flipped as she turned the handle.

Stepping inside the warm building, she pulled her headband off and hung it on the hook by Francis's jacket and orange snow hat. Tentatively she made the decision to remove her own coat as well even though she'd intended on going back out after she changed. Hanging the black winter coat on the peg, she started towards the kitchen area. She could hear the sound of the kettle hissing in complaint on the gas stove burner as it made its way to boil. Rounding the corner she found Francis sitting at the table, flipping through an old magazine. Her wet boots squeaked when she set foot on the laminate floor. Not expecting a guest, Francis whipped out one of his pistols in a flash and pointed it at her. Throwing her hands up in surrender, she gasped.

"I'm sorry!"

"Oh, shit, Zoey, I could have shot you!"

"But you didn't, and that's all I care about right now." She laughed, walking towards the table.

"What's up, is everyone coming in?" He asked tiredly, putting his gun back in the holster as she pulled out a chair to sit by him.

"No, I spilled my drink, so I came in to clean up."

Francis merely nodded, not really paying much attention to her since she supposedly was about to go clean up. Sighing, Zoey rubbed her hands together in her lap, forcing conversation. "Why did we think it was a good idea to join with them?"

"Brain damage." Francis replied shortly, closing the magazine. He watched her carefully, waiting to see where she was going with her question. His answer was rewarded with an amused snort, but it clearly covered the small wound Nick artfully inflicted on her with his words. Francis bristled at the thought. "Look, Zo, don't let him get under your skin, or you'll be leaping for his throat like I do. Sonofabitch practically has me on a pull string."

Grumbling, Zoey crossed her arms. "What do you think Bill would have done?"

"Bill would have shot him while Louie and the big one tried to hold me back. Let's face it, Zo, we're outnumbered now. They're going to peacekeep us to death, and that means letting him be a douchebag and treat the rest of us like garbage." He said sourly, leaning back in the chair.

"Then I don't feel bad about deserting them. Keithism is very fast and effective war torture."

"No shit. Your boyfriend sure likes to talk."

Zoey sighed, leveling a pleading frown at him. "I wish you'd stop calling him that."

"Am I wrong?"

"He's as much my boyfriend as Rochelle is your girlfriend."

"Oh." Francis grunted morosely. "You had to bring _that_ up."

"I will every time you do."

It had seemed so exciting when they had stumbled upon the other group a couple months after the bridge. Francis and Rochelle paired off, as did Ellis and Zoey. Unfortunately months of idealization of what those relationships would look like dropped in reality like a hot rock. Ellis drove Zoey out of her mind with his stories and general buffoonery, while Rochelle was the single most controlling and high maintenance woman Francis had ever met. In less than two weeks those little crushes were, well, crushed. Frankly it was quite humiliating for everyone. Rochelle pretended it never happened, Francis ignored her all together. Ellis didn't seem to care one way or another as long as he had Nick's undivided attention, which really just creeped Zoey out, even driving her to joke with Francis from time to time about Brokeback Zombies.

"Deal." He grumbled.

When it came down to it, the only company she really wanted most of the time was Francis, strange as it may be. They liked similar things and they had the same morbid sense of humor. There was no pressure to be anyone when she conversed with him. Aside from his type-A wrath while shooting infected, he was very laid back all when their lives were not in danger, even when he'd get a crazy hair up his ass to do something absolutely insane, be it inciting a small zombie horde, or finding various things to burn or blow up. Usually it was harmless fun Zoey enjoyed extensively herself.

Though after Bill passed she'd noticed he seemed to scale back a bit of his innate irritating "Francis-ness". He wasn't as boisterous or haphazard in his actions, and was downright Ranger Rick about safety. You could even say he was... caring, but he was definitely still short tempered, crude, and possessed a gruffness that would make a mountain hermit shy away, so it wasn't like he was a different person, just more accessible.

"Deal?" She asked, raising her eyebrow. "Did you just threaten me with awkwardness?"

"Probably. Somehow."

She smiled, resting her chin on her arms she crossed on the table. Then there was his story. Possibly her story as well. Something about sharing a past with him was very appealing. Maybe it was the creeping loneliness she'd been feeling since the groups had joined. She had always felt the loneliest in crowds. The more people were around, the deeper she withdrew, which was part of the reason she had such a hard time in school. Louis had fit in well with the others immediately, as Zoey expected, and had grown a little distant from her since she didn't have a monopoly on his attention.

Francis had always been distant, but when they mixed with the group his walls had gotten thicker, especially with Nick constantly on the prowl. While he was always friendly to her, he turned ice cold whenever the others were around. Telling his story around the campfire had been one of the few exceptions, and she knew he regretted it after Nick had used it as ammunition against him. Being alone with him was the key to getting him to be like his old self, like when Bill was alive. It seemed Bill hadn't just been Zoey's safe place, but Francis's as well. If that was the case, then Zoey really, really wanted their story to be shared. In the friendship of two, it was never too crowded.

Silence hung heavily in the air as she figured out how to go about asking him more about the Elf without putting him on the defensive, but she was interrupted. The kettle began to whistle and Francis stood to turn off the burner and get his cup ready. She thought he would reach for the cocoa like everyone else, but he just picked up an instant coffee mix, no cream, no sugar.

_BINGO!_

"Black." She said, snapping her fingers once. "That's all you wanted at _Starbucks _too! I offered a cappuccino, or one of the seasonal drinks, but you just wanted plain black coffee, which is too bad because the gingerbread drink I had was amazing."

Francis paused, slowly set down the package in his hand then turned around. Leaning back against the counter he stared Zoey down and crossed his arms. "That ain't funny, Zo. She's probably dead and I ain't gonna let you joke about her for shits and giggles. Her name wasn't even Zoey."

"Jenny!" Zoey blurted, standing from the table. She was upsetting him, and that was not her goal, but she had to get in all the prior information before he gave it all away. "And that was actually my best friend's name. I was too scared to give you mine."

Francis paled. That was information he'd never told anyone. Could Zoey actually be... _No. No. No._

"That's impossible."

Zoey walked over to him and held her hand over his lower face, blocking out his goatee, brightening on seeing his eyes without the accompanying facial hair. "You were clean shaven that day. That has to be why I didn't recognize you when we met again. I'll never forget that nasty scar on your chin." She chirped in excitement. Placing her fingers on the area of his beard where the knotted scar was, sure enough, she could feel the bump of raised scar tissue. On contact his entire body stiffened in alarm, but she was too excited to notice.

_It's him. Without a doubt._

Frozen with surprise, her smile threw him back in time to the same wide grin the elf had given him before they walked out the door to escort her to her car. It was her, but he didn't want to believe it.

"Holy shit..." He whispered, losing a grip on his usual tempered steel emotional control. "No..." He stumbled away from her, keeping a defensive distance. "It's not possible! I would have known!"

"Francis, I didn't know either. You look so different." Zoey encouraged, trying to step towards him again, but he jerked away. It hurt that she would want to tease him about something so... personal. He thought they had a better understanding than that. It was so cruel.

"Why are you doing this to me, Zo?"

Caught off guard, Zoey realized just how sticky the situation had become. For some reason that story was a raw nerve for him, but why? Swallowing a knot in her throat, Zoey choked out her thoughts.

"Why was she so important to you?"

Voice cracking he confessed to her, yet he remained stuck against the wall like a cornered animal. "Because she thought I wasn't a bad guy. Just talking to her was the first time I'd felt normal in years. I could never forget her. The morning after Z-day I went back to that coffee shop one last time, just in case she'd be there. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. She's dead. _Dead_. She has to be dead."

Zoey felt her control wavering, and didn't understand why she was becoming so upset. She needed to prove her identity to him if she ever wanted to escape the clutches of isolation. _I'm not dead, and you're not getting away._ Balling her hands into fists, she started to shout.

"I had red cheeks drawn on with makeup crayon! Green pants, and short sleeves with a black belt! I had red and white stripped sleeves and stockings, and green curled shoes with bells on the end! I even went so far as to get some fake pointed Spock ears, which probably didn't even stick out of that damn scratchy wig, but I wore them anyway, because damnit, Vulcans are cooler than elves!"

"No." Francis whispered, refusing to hear her.

"You had brown shorts and a brown polo over a gray long sleeve thermal. There is a scar on your chin covered up by the facial hair, it stretched nearly from your lip to the bottom of your chin! I asked where you got it from, you said bar fight, but I didn't believe you... I still don't!"

"Stop this..." He breathed, backing up to the wall. Zoey closed the distance, leaving just a foot of space between them.

"Why don't you believe me?" She roared, her voice echoing in the empty shelter.

"I don't want to."

"Ask me a question. Something only she would know!" Zoey ordered, pointing a finger into his chest.

"What make and model of-"

"1996 Toyota Carolla! Red! There was a bumper sticker on the front driver side panel covering up some rust! The seats were light tan with a-"

She was cut off when she found herself smashed into the black thermal shirt covering his chest, by the force of his massive arms. Eyes wide with shock, it took a second before it registered that she was being squeezed half to death, and when it did, the relief washed over her. Snaking her arms around his waist, she sighed and squeezed with all her might. Weeks of emotional solitude washed away into nothing. Finally she'd found someone to hold onto, someone she actually wanted to hold onto. No more pining for her parents or the security of Bill. Pushing back a bit, she wiped a bit of errant moisture from her eyes.

"I never forgot you either. I lived across town, but every now and then I'd drive over to that store just in case you'd be there too." She admitted quietly, she'd never told anyone that. Often, when life became too much for her to handle, she'd go looking for an escape, especially when her parents dropped the bomb they were divorcing.

Sighing, he replied slowly. "Why?"

"I wanted you to know my real name. I wanted to talk to you more. I felt like I made a huge mistake letting you go."

"You didn't let me go. I had to leave. We never could have been friends. Not then." He explained firmly. Heaving a deep breath, Francis ran a hand through his growing hair. Everything was so complicated all of a sudden.

"Why?" She demanded, eyes flashing with confusion and anger.

"You were just a kid! Now... now you're _just barely_ not a kid! I don't even know if it's right to be talking to you alone! I don't know what you want from me, or-or-"

"I just want to know if you're happy I'm alive."

Staring at her for a long second, he replied slowly and deliberately. "I've been happy you're alive every morning and night for 93 days."

Zoey's mind halted as his words sunk in. Heat spread up from her belly through her chest and spread across her cheeks. What on earth did he mean by that? Grasping for words, she backed away, face contorted in confusion. Only one word graced the tip of her tongue.

"Francis..."

The door at the front of the building flew open and chattering voices flooded in. Quickly stepping away from him she took a seat at the kitchen table, while he remained at the kitchen threshold staring off into the distance. Louis strolled in and placed the kettle back on a burner.

"You alright man?" He asked Francis. Nodding, Francis disappeared out of the room, not really wanting to be around people as he sorted his thoughts. Louis looked to Zoey. "What's up with him?"

"The past came alive tonight." She said, deep in thought herself.

"His story wasn't _that_ good." Louis snorted.

"It was better than you think."

* * *

_"So how'd you get that scar?" She asked curiously, sipping at her hot drink. They sat kitty corner to each other on a couple of the large armchairs before the electric fireplace. She'd always loved Starbucks and every other coffee shop she'd ever been in. The atmosphere was always so calming and comfortable, like a cabin in the woods. _

_"Bar fight?" He replied with a hapless laugh and shrugged._

_"Makes sense... I guess."_

_"Used to have chin grass to cover it up, but work made me shave it." He explained, stroking his bare chin. "Feels weird like this." _

_"Oh, ok. I bet that looked nice." She thought, trying to imagine him with the facial hair, just in case she ever saw him in the street, but what she imagined looked more like a Texan with a handle bar moustache. He sipped at his coffee and checked the time on the wall clock. They'd been talking for over 2 hours, and frankly he was liking her too much for his own comfort. "Well, Darlin, thanks for the coffee, but you better get going now, I'm sure your parents will be havin a fit soon."_

_"I guess." Zoey mumbled, and clenched at her gingerbread cappuccino cup, trying to think of any excuse to stay longer. This man, rough as he was, treated her respectfully as any adult. She wanted to tell him that she was 18, and she had her own car, and her parents were not concerned with what time she got home, but she was growing uncomfortable with how much she found herself liking him. He was probably in his early 30's, had definitely just lost his job, and who knew what his future held for him. When it came down to it, they were just two friendly ships passing in the night, probably never to see each other again._

_"Hey now, I'm not kicking you out", he said, leaning forward in the comfortable chair. "But I'm trying to be the good guy here. I don't want to hear on the news about some pretty girl in a silly red wig gettin hurt cause she went home too late. I'd never forgive myself."_

_"Yeah, I know. I was just really enjoying this." She explained, drinking the last of her ginger flavored latte. Tossing the paper cup in a nearby receptacle, she looked out the window. The snow had picked up in intensity. Discomfort twisted her stomach. He was right. If she was going to get jumped walking to her car, it would be in weather like that at that time of night. "Can I ask you one more favor?"_

_"Sure."_

_"Walk me to my car? It's getting nasty out there. Hell, zombies could sneak up on me in that kind of weather."_

_"You should be more afraid of vampires." He joked._

_"Nah, they tend to be sexy."_

_He snorted. "Right. Sexy blood sucking vampires. Alright, let's get you to your car."_

_He escorted her out of the store, receiving a few suspicious glares from the barista and another female customer. Rolling his eyes, he held open the door and ignored them. "Everyone thinks I'm a creep." He mumbled as the door shut behind them. The snow was thick and wet everything it touched. _

_"Wow, this is...crazy." She laughed awkwardly. _

_"Don't worry, I won't let anyone sneak up on you."_

_"What if you do?" She asked, her cheeks secretly reddening beneath the elf makeup._

_"Then I'll kick my own ass." He replied immediately. "Hurry up now, you're gonna get soaked."_

_"What about you?"_

_"Takes more than a little snow to slow me down." _

_Zoey nodded, and lead the way to her car. Coming up to the bar the evening had begun in, Zoey located her small mid 90's Carolla and ran towards it. "Here he is!"_

_Francis began brushing snow off the headlights and windshield as she climbed in and turned the engine over. The reliable little Toyota sputtered to life and putted away as it warmed up. Zoey stepped out of the car slightly depressed, knowing her evening was coming to an end. Francis stood with his hands in his pockets to warm them up. The snow gathered and soaked in on his uniform, outlining some muscles on the highest points of his chest. Zoey swallowed hard, he was built like a brick shithouse. _

_"Are you sure you don't want a ride or something?" She blurted before she could even think. Francis smiled seeing the panic on her face when her mouth betrayed her. _

_"No, darling. Get in your car and go home. By yourself." He replied with a chuckle then looked down the street. "There's a bus stop a couple blocks down and if anyone tries to jump me... well, they'll regret it."_

_"Why? You a pro-wrestler or something?"_

_"Or something." He shrugged, thinking for a second about his usual occupation, which he unfortunately would probably have to return to after losing the only legitimate gig he'd had in years. She didn't need to know about the fact that his job duties usually consisted of beating the tar of people squelching on debts to the Legion. That bar fight earlier was just a minor scrap compared to his usual altercations that would make UFC fighters squeamish. _

_"Oh ok." Zoey looked into her car, then back up at the man. She really didn't want to go. "I..."_

_Francis just watched her expressions flutter as her internal war waged. It was hilarious and endearing. Walking over to her, he grabbed the door. "Come on, darling, get in."_

_"But!"_

_"Do it."_

_"But!"_

_"You're getting sopping wet, get in before I throw you in." He warned lightly._

_Sighing in defeat she peered up at him one last time. "One more thing." She declared and stepped over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Startled, his eyes widened and he tentatively wrapped an arm around her. "Merry Christmas. Thanks for everything."_

_"Me- Merry Christmas." He replied in surprise, then she climbed in her car. Just as he was about to shut the door he stopped. "What's your name?"_

_Zoey blanked out. Should she tell him her real name? No, he was some random guy! _

_"Jenny."_

_He nodded, "Nice to meet you, Jenny. Drive safe. Lock your doors." Gently, he shut her into the car, smiled, then turned to walk away, not looking back for fear of changing his mind and taking that ride._

_As the wipers brushed the snow off her window and the vents dried out the condensation, she watched him walk slowly down the sidewalk hands in his pockets. He looked around in the storm like a child, enamored with all the flakes blanketing the dirty ground. With a disappointed groan, she let her head fall forward and bang on the steering wheel._

_"My name is Jenny, but I won't tell you it's actually Zoey because I'm a complete idiot! Why would I want the heroic hot guy with giant muscles know my real name?"_

_Pulling off the hat and wig combo, she flung it into the passenger seat. After smoothing down her brown hair, she buckled her seatbelt and cautiously pulled into the street. The last thing she wanted was to get in an accident._

_It could have been 0 degrees out and he still wouldn't have been cold. He was acknowledged by a smart, pretty, and supremely tough girl that evening. She wasn't scared of him, in fact she was an unabashed geek, having spent most of their conversation talking about movies and scifi TV. Speaking with her had been the closest he'd felt to normal since he was a teen himself, and man did she carry one hell of a punch. Pervy Santa would think twice before picking on some underage girls again, of course Francis's own administered attitude adjustment would probably put him in a cast or two for months. _

_"Jenny", he mumbled, "You take care of yourself, kiddo." Sitting in the bus vestibule, he leaned back and watched the flakes fall until the city bus pulled up. Before stepping on the heated transportation, Francis looked one last time down the street at the bar. The indents from where her car sat all evening were still visible. It was a good night. It was a great night. Despite being fired, he felt like a million bucks._

_"Merry Christmas, Darling. Maybe one day... I'll see you again."_

_Above him a small hole opened up in the clouds for a minute, revealing a patch of stars, with a very bright one at the center. Smiling to himself he chuckled and stepped onto the bus._

* * *

Francis found himself at the kitchen table again, unable to sleep. His companions were spread out all over the living area, happily snoring away in their sleeping bags. He still couldn't believe it had all fallen together so perfectly. The elf was Zoey. Zoey was still Zoey but she was the elf too. It was the most amazing thing he could have ever hoped for, but it was also problematic... and traumatic.

Though he preferred her company to anyone else's, she was still just the young woman with the attitude and morbid affection for killing infected. She was only to be protected and lived in the "no go" zone, the "hands off or go to special hell" area. She was OFF LIMITS. Well, that what he'd tried to program himself to think. The second she'd felt for the scar on his chin, new exciting sensations and emotions welled up to the surface and mutated his view of her from cute girl to beautiful woman. Now memories of watching her move, twist, and run while fighting infected like liquid poetry were overwhelming him every time he closed his eyes. She truly was a knock out; slender and athletic, and blessed with dark eyelashes to frame her icy blue eyes.

That was of course with a healthy dose of anxiety. He prided himself on not being a creep and keeping his eyes on those women closer to his age, but pieces were falling into places that his mind and body could not ignore, despite his very best efforts. Zoey was... hell... she'd always been everything he'd ever wanted... if she was older. He and Bill had both agreed that Zoey was a child, even if she had the body of an adult, and the hardening experiences of killing. That being said, Francis knew he only had one option.

Avoid her.

When she came to him be friendly but act like nothing existed between them past or present. When she wanted to talk, be short. Whatever happened keep her at a distance at all costs. That was the plan anyway. Whether or not he had the self control to pull it off was another question.

Moving the chair parallel to the table he slouched and raised his hands to rub his throbbing temples. Allowing his long legs to stretch out before him, he pushed out a tired breath.

_Why did everything always get so damn complicated? And why is it so damn hot in here?_

Standing again, Francis went to the door and put on his hat, coat, and gloves and went outside. He needed as much fresh air as he could get. Thinking clearly was imperative.

From her sleeping bag, Zoey roused when she felt the cool rush of air from the closing of the front door. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and looked around the room at the sleeping bags. Everyone was there except Francis. Sighing, she stood up and pulled her heavy pants over her sleeping shorts. Buckling on her boots, she shuffled over to the door and pulled on her coat, scarf, and headband.

He was clearly still upset over the revelation they had earlier and had avoided her the remainder of the evening. That had not been her intention. Her intention had been the exact opposite. Inspire friendly feelings and memories, maybe even become close. Maybe... maybe reclaim some of what they had lost.

Slipping out the door, she pulled it shut and turned around, halting when the sky attacked her with a deluge of fat white snowflakes. "Holy shit." She coughed, breathing a few into her mouth. The single light pole before their shelter turned the sky into war of white. Zoey smirked, thinking it looked like a starfield during warp in a starship... _ok Zoey, put the geek away._

Stepping away from the building, she delighted in the crunch of the fresh snow under her feet. Turning the corner she stopped when she found him sitting on the picnic table, gathering the fresh layer of snow into balls.

"Hey." She greeted, walking up with her hands in her pockets.

"What are you doing up?" He asked lightly, consumed in his task.

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Got hot." He replied simply.

Zoey nodded, trying to find a place to start. She needed to repair whatever had been broken during their earlier conversation. There was really only one place to start, his fear of being a creep.

"I was 18." She stated, watching as he put down his snow ball and curiously looked up at her, not saying anything. She continued, "I... I was mad for months that I didn't give you my real name."

"You shouldn't have been." He replied seriously, "I was some random guy and you were just a kid. It was best you were imaginary. I shouldn't have been thinking any thoughts about, or interacting young girls then or now."

"I told you I was 18! I'm in my 20's now!" Motioning to her body, she assured him, "I am fully developed!"

Francis clenched his eyes and grimaced, doing absolutely anything to remove that thought from his head. Shaking his head, he continued. "Exactly. Teen. You were still in highschool, right? You're only 21 now."

She didn't want to confirm either of those facts.

"Point it you're still too damn young to be spending any amount of time with me."

"Why?" She asked simply, confounded why it would be an issue.

"Damnit, Zoey! I was 33 then! I'm four years off of 40 now!" He snapped, louder than he intended. Calming himself, he tried again. "When you were imaginary, you were this little elf with sparkly red hair that treated me like a respectable person, bought me coffee and made me insanely happy for a few hours. It's one of the few memories that's been keeping going. Now..."

"I'm real."

"Exactly!"

"Does it change the memory?"

"Hell no", he said softly, "But I came to terms with notion of that little elf having gone upstairs where she belonged. Away from all of this. But here she is killing those things, watching people die... stuck with me morning and night for the last 93 days. She's merged with this other nutjob who I've been avoiding spending too much time with as it was. Now you're two girls I really happen to like _a lot_. Avoiding you is becoming harder and harder. Every damn second."

He rubbed the back of his neck, shivering as the snow iced on his gloves contacted his neck. Sitting beside him on the table, Zoey rested her hands in her lap. The picture was becoming more clear and she was... intrigued.

"Why is that a bad thing?"

"Fine, I'll come clean. All damn night I've been having thoughts that I shouldn't. The kind of thoughts that put you in special hell." He confessed, then buried his face in his hands.

"I don't think they could be that bad unless you're fantasizing about killing me." She joked, hearing nothing but falling snow flakes and imaginary crickets. Clearing her throat, she turned to face him. He should at least know the truth she'd been hoarding all to herself. "Francis, look. This badass came and wiped the fucking floor by himself with a bunch of creeps. I'd been having _inappropriate_ _thoughts_ about him for years."

"Bullshit."

"Serious," She admitted with reddening cheeks. "I just had no idea it was you this whole time."

"I had no idea this mouthy woman with terrible aim was my coffee elf, but that still doesn't make it right. I can't be around you much more." He said with resolve and jumped off the table.

"Francis!" She barked, nailing him in his tracks. Turning around slowly, he faced her with his arms crossed. He needed to go, but he didn't want to. Any excuse she gave him would be... exploited. Zoey suddenly grinned then yelled, "Catch!"

Picking up one of his snowballs, she winged it at him, hitting him square in the chest. The tension in the air immediately dissolved.

"Hey! That was mine!"

Another snowball shot towards his head and he ducked.

"If I have to force you, you will bend to my will!" Zoey cried, rolling backward over the table to land on her feet in the soft snow. As she righted herself, she couldn't move fast enough to avoid the ball connecting with her shoulder. "I'm hit!"

"Not yet you aren't!"

Taking off at a sprint, she scooped a handful off the ground, spun and launched her projectile at the only moving object behind her. Ducking deftly out of the way, Francis grinned, leaping to plant then sling his own ball at her. As it barely whizzed by her head, Zoey skid to a stop, going down to one knee and rolled another.

It was a standoff.

Francis stood cocked and ready to throw, with Zoey in the same manner on one knee. The only sound was the huff and puff of their breaths going into the air as steam.

"Take your best shot." She goaded.

"Ladies first."

"Since when?" She laughed, dropping her weapon. Francis unleashed his snowball. Expecting it, Zoey rolled off to the side in a dodge, then launched herself up from the ground. With two hard steps she launched herself at him, impacting his chest with her shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her, they tumbled to the ground, scrambling in the white powder for leverage. Finally, he pinned her face down, her arms locked up behind her back.

If she hadn't been laughing so hard, she would have yelled, cried, kicked... but it was too much fun. Feeling the tremors in her body, he released her, and sat off to the side, looking up at the torrent of snowflakes still falling at a steady rate.

"Oh... God... Francis..." She gasped, rolling onto her back, wiping the snow off her red face. "I think I have freezer burn!"

"You started it."

"I'll finish it too."

"What?"

Kicking up her leg, she kneed him in the chest, sending him back to the ground with a thud. Not wasting a second, she jumped on him, pulled out her pistol and stuck it in his neck.

"Cheater." He wheezed, trying to pull air into his lungs. There would be a very large bruise on his sternum in the morning. "Damn safety better be on!"

"Tell me I win."

"Fine, you win."

Returning her pistol to her holster she held up her hands in victory. "Ladies and gentlemen, your champion."

Francis merely groaned, rubbing the sore spot on his chest. "Damnit."

"I'm sorry, got carried away."

"No shit."

"But it was necessary."

"Why?"

"Now you know I am not a child."

Francis opened his eyes widely, gazing up at her where she sat on his stomach. She stared back seriously, resting her palms over the bruise. He couldn't find words, certainly none coherent enough to make an argument. "Zoey..."

Softly smiling, she leaned over resting her forearms on his collarbones. Mere inches away from his face, she sighed and pushed his hat off his head. "You have hat hair."

"That's because it was in a hat." He replied flatly, his chest rumbling with each word. Reflexively, his hands rose to her waist, resting gently on her coat.

"Merry Christmas, Francis." She whispered and dipped in to taste his lips. In the space of one second, every single argument he had for keeping her at a distance faded into oblivion. She filled his five senses and he couldn't get enough. Responding instantly, he gripped her body with one hand, and brought the other up to her face, placing his palm on her cheek as he brushed her ever present bangs away from her eyes. Moving into the kiss he sat up easily, pushing her from his waist to his lap. Pulling away just enough to breathe, he spoke.

"Merry Christmas, Zoey." Kissing her once more on the forehead, he stood, offering her a hand. "Come on, we'll freeze our asses off on the ground." Pulling her to her feet, they walked back to the table to sit and watch the snow come down. He brushed his pile of snowballs off the table to land with thumps on the ground. Jumping to sit on the table, he reached out and snared her waist to pull her to his side. She fit into him like a missing puzzle piece.

As she settled against him, he kissed her temple, closing his eyes and basking in the scent of her hair and the exhilaration of the moment. Even if nothing came of the night, or the next week, month, or year; he didn't give a shit. For that one night, she was safe, she was alive, she was his.

"Hey Francis?"

"Yeah?"

"Nice Jayne Cobb hat."

He chuckled. "I went to watch Firefly after your hour long recommendation. Jayne and I have some things in common."

Zoey smiled warmly, leaning her head against his shoulder. He remembered. He actually remembered.

"Yeah, you both have girl's names." She quipped, overjoyed when she felt his deep laughter rumble through his body.

They chatted through the early hours, reminiscing about the bar fight, about their time together, about the ones they miss, and everything in between, until the snow ceased and the sun rose over the horizon, illuminating the world with the rainbow of dawn light on the brand new world scrubbed clean by the snow.

Without a doubt, Francis had a new favorite Christmas memory.


End file.
